It's fine to pretend
by GodlyRottenAppleJuice
Summary: As much as it hurts, as much as it made Romano want to break down, he was fine.


It's fine to pretend

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia or its characters.

**A/N:** I wanted to write something. So, here it is. Please review and tell me what you think, good or bad. (I do not regret asking for reviews; those actually do make me happy, no matter how selfish it sounds) I really got nothing more to say, but:

Enjoy

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Spain was laughing, his slightly curly brown hair resting on top of his head in slight disarray. His eyes were a deep green, a glittering green that said he enjoyed life and its moments. He was talking animatedly with Feliciano.

Romano kept his distance from the pair, his eyes being kept firmly on the book in front of him. But he could hear his little brother and former caretaker laughing, and talking. Spain never once said 'Hi' to Romano and started a conversation with _him_ ever since he entered the Italian's household.  
Spain had come to see Feliciano.

Perfect, cute, little Feliciano, who Romano loved, was apparently loved by many. Especially by Spain, and Romano kept his mouth shut and pressed into a thin line of dismay. It hurt to see Spain talking to Feliciano and not even _glance_ at Romano who sat in front of the T.V on a couch reading a book.

For half his life, Romano knew he cared for Spain. No, scratch that, he _loved_ Spain. Or, was starting to care more and more about the Spaniard every time they talked, every time Romano _thought_ about his former caretaker. It made him feel happy, but at the same time, lonely and sad.

Now seeing his former caretaker _loving_ his little brother, while not even acknowledging Romano, Romano hated him. He hated Spain with all his being; he hated Spain for making Romano fall for him little by little. Worse part is that Spain probably doesn't _even know_ that Romano _cared. _Did it even matter now?

Romano could see the love and joy in Spain's eyes, and hear it in his voice, every time he talked to Romano's little brother. Even if Feliciano wasn't in the room, and he came up in a simply conversation, Spain got this dreamy look. As much as they should have freaked out Romano, it hurt.

What hurt worse is keeping Romano's feeling a secret. If he told Spain or Feliciano (Anyone for that matter) that would only make Romano hurt worse. He didn't want Spain to be unhappy, besides hating the man for making Romano love him. Also, he didn't want Feliciano to be sad that he made his Fratello unhappy.

At last, Romano couldn't stand being in the same room with the two. He set the book down, and headed for the kitchen for a glass of wine to calm his nerves. They didn't notice, of course. A sour feeling of jealousy and hurt rolled its way into a lump in Romano's throat. Tears pricked at his eyes, which he angrily blinked back.

"Who needs those bastards anyways?" Romano sneered, talking to no one. Sipping the bitter sweet wine, he leaned against the counter. Across from him was a fridge that was littered with pictures his brother insisted on taking.

His hazel eyes lingered on one in particular. It was of him and Spain, his brother taking the picture. Spain's arms were around Romano's neck, smiling into the camera. (Or at Feliciano) While Romano glared at the floor, his face turned away from Spain. A blush was on the Italian's face.

Again, Romano sneered and turned away from the picture filled fridge. Setting the half empty glass on the counter by the sink, he stared outside through the window that was above the sink. People milled by, laughing and talking, some even kissing. This was Italy.

The tears slid over Romano's cheeks, the pain and hurt, anger and jealousy, all emotions Romano ever felt were blurring into one. He couldn't tell which was which anymore; all he knew was that he didn't want to feel _anything_ anymore. His throat hurt, as if he wanted to scream, but Romano kept his mouth shut remembering the other two in the room.

"Fratello?" Feliciano asked, suddenly concerned for his brother as he lead Spain through the kitchen door. Romano tensed, before angrily wiping the tears away quickly. "What's wrong?" Concern and pain were in his little brother's voice, as if he could feel Romano's angst even though he didn't know what was wrong.

"N-nothing's wrong!" Romano's choked out, surprised that his voice sounded the same. "Leave me alone, dammit!" Tears welled up in Feliciano's eyes, his eyes saying that they believed something was seriously wrong with his brother.

"Fratello! Was it something with the Mafia? I thought they left you alone!" Feliciano cried, and Romano was taken aback when Spain wrapped Feliciano in a comforting hug. Romano couldn't help but be startled by the caring movement by Spain. _Romano_ was crying too.

"Fusososososo Feli~" Spain cooed gently, assuring the almost crying Feliciano. Feliciano was still staring worriedly at his brother, but allowed Spain to hug him. Romano couldn't help but stare at the pair in front of him, unsure of what to do. "I'm sure Romano is just fine." Fine…_fine…_

Romano was anything _but_ fine. But he kept on staring at the pair, his whimpering brother and former caretaker. He wanted to yell, he wanted to cry, and he wanted to break down. Romano let his tears flow over, as he desperately swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Y-yeah! I'm perfectly fine!" Wiping his eyes, Romano refused to cry about Spain, he refused to cry about Spain loving his little brother. "What makes you think I'm not, you bastard?" Gaining his composure, even though it hurt, Romano forced himself to stand straight and stare evenly at his little brother.

Feliciano was sniffling, but nodded at his brother. "I believe you, Fratello." He sent his brother a shaky smile, pulling away from Spain to head over to the cupboards. Feliciano started to pull pasta ingredients from the cupboards, his smile back in place. "Ooh, Fratello! Did you hear about the next world meeting?"

"Ah, that's next week isn't it?" Spain interrupted, before Romano could register what his little brother had asked him. Spain was staring at Feliciano, a dreamy longing expression on his face. Romano stared at Spain and Feliciano, as they both melted into another conversation.

Romano picked up his abandoned glass, and sat on the island. He was tired of running away, he was tired of crying, and he was tired of _feeling._ Instead, he sat down and pretended everything was fine at the moment.

He could pretend that he was fine, that his heart wasn't broken, and that his feelings were all over the place. Romano poured more wine into his glass, his eyes flickering back and forth between the glass to the talking pair. As long as they were happy, Romano was happy. As long as this façade of _everything is fine_, Romano would keep quiet and keep on acting as if everything is normal.

For the sake of his little brother and his former caretaker, he would be fine.

And maybe one day, he truly will be _fine._

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_Review, Favorite, or whatever you do on stories that you read.  
-_BMTM


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